


So Let the People Talk

by elfiepike



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Birthday, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-12
Updated: 2011-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-21 07:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfiepike/pseuds/elfiepike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aiba has something to tell Jun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Let the People Talk

**Author's Note:**

> for [rainbowfilling](http://rainbowfilling.livejournal.com), with the prompt of: "shh, they'll hear!" thanks to [kinoface](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kinoface/pseuds/kinoface) for beta-reading.

The party is in full swing by the time Jun arrives, every corner of the room packed with people or food or decorations or a confusing mix of all three. Ohno, for one, has acquired both a wreath on his head and a kouhai on his arm. Jun pushes his way through coworkers and staff to say hello.

"Jun-kun," Ohno smiles back.

"Matsumoto-san," Chinen says, beaming so hugely that his eyes close. He leans more heavily on Ohno's arm; Ohno appears to bear the weight easily. Both of them are pink-cheeked.

Jun had not realized he was quite _that_ late to the party. He can't think of what to say that would convey the proper feeling of _please don't let Chinen-kun be caught drinking again with you, because I'm pretty sure that next time the company will just let pictures of the two of you leak as punishment for all of us_ but Ohno seems oblivious and, well. Jun can always threaten people personally, if it comes to that.

"Where's the man of the hour?" he asks instead.

Ohno scrunches his face up in thought, his hand drifting up to pet Chinen's hair while he thinks.

"I haven't seen Aiba-chan in a while," Ohno finally says, tilting his head to the side.

"I'll look around," Jun says, and escapes before Chinen starts purring into Ohno's shoulder.

He makes his way through the crowd to the buffet table, on the theory that if Aiba isn't there, he can at least get something to eat; it had been a long day of reshoots and catering had closed up before they'd finished. He hadn't eaten in hours.

Thankfully, there's still a lot of food left: trays of dim sum that are still steaming hot, clearly recently put out; two salad platters with sizeable portions left, piled high with tomatoes and chicken and grated parmesan; kara'age with a whole array of sauces to drizzle on top.

The cheese platter has already been killed, though. Jun curses late filming again.

He's nearly filled his plate with rotini and cha siu bao and is reaching for the salad tongs when something grabs his ankle, hard. He yelps, trying to pull away and not drop his food at the same time, and looks down expecting - he's not quite sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn't Aiba, half under the table, the tablecloth draped over his head like a shawl. Jun stares, his heart still racing, Aiba's hand still gripping tightly to his ankle.

"Matsujun," Aiba croons, extending the last syllable until it loses all meaning. He says it again, more like he actually speaks a human language, and bursts into a smile that is so blinding that Jun almost drops his plate a second time.

Aiba's hand is warm, even through Jun's pants and socks.

"Matsujun," Aiba says a third time, this time sounding normal - well, normal and drunk. Really, really drunk.

"Aiba-chan," Jun says, trying for Aiba's drunken sing-song. He can feel himself smiling helplessly down at Aiba.

Aiba unwinds his hand from Jun's ankle and instead tugs unsteadily on his pant-leg. "Matsujun," he says again, and Jun wants to make a snarky comment about how yes, that _is_ his name, well done!, but this time Aiba keeps going: "Matsujun, Junpon, Jun-kun, Matsumoto-san, you should, you - you should come here."

"I should - come to the floor?"

"No, no, of course not, don't be - come under the _table_."

Jun glances around the crowded banquet hall. Shockingly, no one seems to have noticed them.

"It's my _birthday_ ," Aiba says, clearly trying to sound insistent but landing instead on pleading and adorable, his eyes big and shiny and his hair mussed by the tablecloth.

Jun's cheeks split in a smile again, entirely without his control. He puts his plate down next to the kara'age sauces and kneels down to join Aiba.

"Welcome!" Aiba announces when Jun has joined him under the table. He sweeps his arm as if to indicate that he has invited Jun into a very exclusive establishment, the gesture as grand as it can be while hindered by the cramped space.

"Thank you, thank you, I'm honored," Jun responds, playing along. He sits cross-legged and hunched over a little to keep from hitting his head.

Aiba shushes him immediately. "They'll hear, they'll hear!"

"Who--" Jun starts, but Aiba waves a hand at him, cutting him off.

The light through the tablecloths makes Aiba's face look even softer than Jun knows it to be, and the sound of the crowd is just barely muffled, creating a strange, secretive intimacy.

Aiba smiles at him, then grows more serious, simultaneously intent and vaguely unfocused the way only the very drunk can be. "Jun-chan," he says, "I'm thirty now, so I thought it was time to tell you... I mean, maybe you already know and are just too nice to say something, but. I thought I would tell you anyway. Because sometimes you just need to say something. You know?" He looks at Jun for confirmation and because he is so clearly drunk and in need of encouragement, Jun nods, even though he's not sure if he _does_ know what Aiba's talking about.

"Well, so, the thing is," Aiba says, "I love you."

Jun smiles, filled with warmth. "I love you too, Aiba-chan."

Aiba shakes his head. "No, I mean. I mean, yes, I love you, but, I love you also - I'm also in love with you, Jun."

Jun is stunned, for a minute unable to think past Aiba's words repeating themselves in his mind. He feels his jaw drop a little and is selfishly glad that Aiba has chosen now to look away from him and down at the small stretch of floor between them.

"And I know - I know I'm really drunk right now, I _know_ ," Aiba continues, and looks at Jun again, "but I swear, I'll, I'll tell you again tomorrow if you'll let me. Tomorrow and every day. I, I just -"

Jun thinks he maybe relives their entire friendship in the span of Aiba's speech: the way he's always paid attention to Aiba, how no one can make him laugh the way Aiba can, the way he's always wanted Aiba especially to be happy and would do everything within his power to make it happen.

The way Aiba's tears make him cry the most, and the way Aiba's smiles always make him smile the biggest.

"Aiba-chan," Jun interrupts, before Aiba can get too far away from the point. "You should tell me again tomorrow."

"Oh, okay," Aiba says, sounding strangely dejected, but then he seems to understand what Jun said. "Oh - oh! _Jun_!" He flings himself onto Jun, grappling with him like he would be hugging but he simply can't manage more coordination, he's so overwhelmed. Before Jun realizes quite what's going on, Aiba's holding onto the side of his face and leaning in, kissing him messily again and again.

It's so unexpected that Jun knocks his head into the table leg, but Aiba just giggles, giggles and kisses him again, before sitting back a little and letting Jun up. "Matsujun," he says.

Jun's head is already starting to throb, but he really can't resist Aiba's smiles, and even his stupid sloppy kisses are just - he thinks he might be blushing. "Hey, Aiba-chan," he says, "happy birthday."

"Jun," Aiba says, looking like a dog that just saw its foodbowl filled up, " _you_ can be my present!"

He leans close again, pressing Jun back against the table leg, puckering his lips. Jun laughs, he can't help it. "Aiba-chan, you're something else," he says, but his heart feels like it's lighter than air and he meets Aiba in the middle. He can't wait until tomorrow.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Major Key](https://archiveofourown.org/works/323366) by [elfiepike](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfiepike/pseuds/elfiepike)




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